


Handheld

by talesofsuspense



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Steve Rogers and the 21st Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-14 01:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19262797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesofsuspense/pseuds/talesofsuspense
Summary: When Steve starts stopping for lunch at Shawarma Palace he isn't expecting Tony to show up and to keep showing up. And he definitely isn't expecting a guide to the 21st century.





	Handheld

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainstars/gifts).



> This is my fill for Stony Loves Steve 2019! It's my first ever fic for a fandom exchange, and I had a lot of fun (and stress, but in a good way) writing it. This was my first time writing a Getting Together fic as opposed to an Established Relationship one, and it was an interesting experience that I'll most likely do again sometime soon. It's sort of like the 5 +1 trope, but a little off the rails. 
> 
> This is written for SilverInStars, who provided a great prompt about Steve and Tony continuously meeting up in the Shawarma restaurant post-Avengers (2012) and Tony being a sort of guide to the future for Steve. I tried to include some more obscure stuff other than just the typical introduction to tech, while still including some good 2012-era tropes. I hope you enjoy this!

The first time Tony shows up it’s with a smirk, a tie half undone, and a pair of sunglasses Steve bets are worth more than the military backpay they allotted him to afford his apartment. He drops into the booth across from Steve, asks how he’s doing, and steals one of his fries before trying to get the waitress’ attention.

 

 _How do you think I’m doing?_ is what Steve wants to ask, because really, what kind of question is that. But he stops himself, reminds himself that that's not fair because Tony came back from a one-way trip and Steve knows firsthand how difficult that is. Instead, he plasters a small smile on his face and says, “I think I pulled a muscle clearing rubble in front of a florist’s yesterday.”

 

At that, Tony laughs and makes a quip about Captain America pulling a muscle. It’s edging on abrasive, uncomfortable, and it’s exactly what Steve needs. He wonders, briefly, if Tony knows that, if he’s there because he knows Steves struggling. But that’s a bit self-centered. More likely is that Tony’s here because he’s struggling and knows Steve must be too.

 

He lets Tony steer the conversation, offering tidbits here and there. He tells him about how he traded running in the morning for clearing debris across the city and in exchange Tony tells him about rebuilding the tower and working to create a miniaturized version of the reactor tech he uses to power it for mass distribution to the tens of thousands still without power across the city and even in the outskirts.

 

In between the sounds of a sizzling grill, discussions about the red tape of government, the clank of a metal spoon as Tony stirs another lemon slice into his glass of cranberry juice, and the rustling of a paper napkin as he cleans the grease off his fingers, Steve relaxes for the first time since the battle.

 

—-

 

The third time Tony shows up it’s with a wink, an AC/DC shirt, and a tablet that he tells Steve will make his laptop look useless, let him draw, and let him keep up with all the news at once. Steve smiles and thanks him, very politely not mentioning that he avoids the news like it’s a plague at this point, that he can’t stomach rewatching clips after clips of the battle and of dirtied and bloodied New Yorkers, some just children, thanking Captain America for saving their lives.

 

Surprisingly, or maybe not, Tony catches onto that. He not-so-subtly shows Steve how to filter news stories that show up to exclude any mention of the Battle of New York, — as they’re calling it now — Chitauri, Captain America, or the Avengers.

 

“What is Iron Man doing in Shawarma Palace, anyway?” Steve asks, sucking an ice cube into his mouth to enjoy the almost stinging coolness of it on his tongue.

 

“What, and miss this?” Tony laughs, pointing to the wall next to them that had been filled with generic photos of New York when they came here after the battle, but is now filled with Iron Man and Captain America official art, as well as some knock-off merchandise like a football Jersey that said Thor on the back with a lightning bolt in lieu of a number and a painting that looked very vaguely like Natasha hanging upside down from a web done in the style of a vintage comic. It’s… strange, but also somehow comforting to see it. It makes Steve a little uncomfortable, but it’s more manageable when it focuses on them as a team and not just on him. That’s what he wants, a team. Even if he has gained a reputation as some sort of “one-man army,” he’s been through enough battles to know that he works best as part of a team.

 

“Besides,” Tony continues, pulling Steve’s eyes away from the wall and back to him. He winks at Steve. “The food is good and the company is nice too.”

 

Steve offers a twitchy smile, willing down the heat he can feel crawling up his face by sucking another ice cube into his mouth. He doesn’t know what to do with that, or with the teenage-flutters feeling it gives him low in his stomach.

 

—-

 

The fourth time Tony brings a Rubik’s cube and sets in front of Steve without a word.

 

“What is this?” Steve asks, picking up the cube and turning it over in his hands, eyeing the mixed up colors on each side, mind already working.

 

“It’s a puzzle,” Tony explains, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “You have to turn the sides until each side of the cube is one solid color. It’s called a Rubik’s Cube, it was invented in 1974 by Erno Rubik and it took him a month to solve his own puzzle. A 12-year-old boy released a book on how to solve it once it became popular in the early 80s.”

 

“And I’m guessing you had one?” Steve asks, already beginning to slowly turn the sides, the soft clicks helping him memorize patterns forming in his mind. He sees Tony take his from phone his pocket and do something quickly before setting it on the table.

 

“Of course I had one,” Tony laughs, eyes glued to where Steve is working on lining up a cross symbol on the green side of the cube. “Mom went to the New York toy fair in the late 70s and talked dad into getting one just for me. It’s a brain game, so it wasn’t considered a useless toy.”

 

Steve frowns at that, at the implication that Tony didn’t have any simple toys just for fun because Howard hadn’t allowed it. He doesn’t comment on it though, not wanting to push any boundaries. Instead, he starts trying to fill the corners, “Why did you bring this here, anyway?”

 

He sees Tony shrug, looks up for a split second to see him smirk before he says, “I wanted to see if that strategic superbrain of yours is really all it’s cracked up to be.”

 

“So you brought me a toy that’s been around for decades and has been solved countless times by people of all ages?” Steve asks, raising a brow even as he moves smoothly to the red side, twisting and turning the sides as his mind tracks the movements, anticipating which squares need to be switched side and which need to stay where they are.

 

“Yeah, but you haven’t been around for decades. It was considered unsolvable when it first came out so, y’know, figured it’d be a good test,” Tony shrugs again, shooting Steve a small smile. Steve smiles back.

 

It takes him 2 minutes and 15 seconds to solve it, setting it down with a satisfied and only slightly smug smile. Tony grins back at him, pulling the cube back to his side to turn it over in his hands.

 

“Nice job, Rogers,” Tony lets out a low, impressed whistle. “Some more practice and you’ll be able to join one of those world championships. You only have to beat the current record of 5.66 seconds.” He smoothly ignores Steve’s visible shock and jaw drop. “Me, you, and Barton, pool tournament. Mathematician versus super strategist versus master marksman. Romanoff as the referee, what do you say?”

 

(Later, Steve would keep that Rubik’s cube on a nightstand in his bedroom, an Iron Man sticker stuck to the center square on the red side. Steve won the pool tournament, and Natasha became his best friend instead of Clint’s.)

 

—-

 

By the sixth time, it’s late July and the restaurant is sticky, the air conditioning isn’t working because the city is still experiencing power outages. The employees have the door propped open and at least five fans are running to try to help circulate air, but there’s only so much they can do.

 

Of course, when Tony Stark is a regular at your establishment and he’s come to develop an emotional attachment, then the impossible becomes possible. So Steve and Tony trek into the back of the shop, Tony so he can do his tinkering and try to fix the A/C, and Steve so he can do any heavy lifting that may be necessary.

 

When Tony pulls out a device that looks vaguely like the arc reactor except shrunk three times and made into a more cylindrical, expandable/collapsible form, Steve doesn’t even question it. Tony’s taken to carrying a few around with him for emergencies like this and he attaches it rather easily to the unit it the back of the restaurant. Steve is mostly useless and taking up space, so he squeezes himself into a corner to watch Tony work, and maybe he watches his biceps and back muscles flex now that he’s shed the button up and is left in a white tank top that’s covered with sweat. It really shouldn’t be doing it for Steve, but it is.

 

“He’s pretty hot for an older guy, isn’t he?” A voice to Steve’s left startles him a little and he turns to look at the kid standing next to him who can't be more than 17 based on the sparse facial hair he’s sporting on his chin.

 

“He’s not old,” Steve protests. He doesn’t even know why he’s defending Tony when Tony makes jokes about him pushing 100 every chance he gets. Maybe he should feel more hesitant about discussing Tony’s looks with a teenager who almost certainly recognizes him, but his brain is working slower with the heat. “But yes, he is pretty hot.”

 

“You two together?” The kid asks, and at that Steve does raise an eyebrow. He just shrugs though, like it’s not at all strange to ask this about Tony Stark slash Iron Man and Captain America.

 

“You lookin’ to sell a piece to the New York Times?” Steve asks back, crossing his arms in a way that he means to come across like an intimidating adult, but based off of the kid’s — Joey, a quick glance down at his name tag reveals —reaction just comes across defensive.

 

“No, just wondering for myself,” he shrugs again, turning back to face Tony where’s he’s kneeling in front of the air conditioner, working a wrench at something. Joey wipes his hands on his apron, glancing up at Steve one last time before turning to leave. “It’d be cool, two guy superheroes together. Hell of a statement.”

 

Steves not going to pretend like one comment from a teenager working at Shawarma Palace made him reconsider his entire approach to this relationship he has with Tony, but he’s also not going to lie and say he’s unaffected.

 

If anything it just made the pining that has existed since probably the first time Tony jokingly flirted with him from across the booth and has only increased exponentially (if his sketchbooks filled with drawings of Tony’s eyes, hands, and general existence are anything to go by) since come straight to the surface and hit him in the solar plexus harder than one of the Iron Man repulsors. Also, something about knowing that maybe a gay superhero, Captain America at that, wouldn’t be met solely with scorn is quite comforting to Steve.

 

By the time they get back to their booth more of Tony is more disheveled than Steve has ever seen him and he can't stop staring. Of course, he gets caught and Tony's brown eyes bore into his own when asks, voice just a tad on the self-conscious side of defensive, “What?”

 

Fueled by the heat and his own desire to keep Tony on his toes, Steve decides to take a risk, bites the bullet and says, “Nothing, I’m just admiring the view.”

 

It’s worth it for the way Tony shoves several fries into his mouth and sucks down half his glass of coke so quickly that if Steve weren’t the one who’d flirted with him seconds before, he wouldn’t know if the flush sitting high on his cheekbones was from embarrassment or from eating too fast.

 

—-

 

On Steve’s first birthday in the future, Tony brings 2 snacks called Zebra Cakes with him, one with a red, white, and blue candle in it. It’s horrendously sweet and incredibly delicious. He also suspects Tony pulled some of his influential strings to get the Shawarma Palace employees to let him light a candle in the middle of the restaurant, but at least he didn’t ask anyone to sing.

 

Steve blows out his candle and wishes for a place in the future and, maybe, for this budding friendship with Tony to grow into something more.

 

“It reminds me of MoonPies,” Steve says, swallowing another lump of what is essentially just sugar. Very good sugar. “Thank you, Tony.”

 

“Of course,” Tony waves a hand dismissively, licking some cream off one of his fingers. “I was shocked to find that MoonPies were as old as you.”

 

“Hey, I’m only 27,” Steve says, grinning. Tony rolls his eyes but grins back. “But really, this is great. They used to ship those out in hundreds to us during the War, a small comfort shared between us and the people back home. It’s nice to see sugary snack foods never change.”

 

“If there’s one thing America will never give up, it’s sugar. And war, but that’s another topic. Next year they’re going to have patriotic colored ones called CapCakes,” Tony winks, holding up the uneaten half of his Zebra cake in the universally recognized signal for a toast that Steve immediately reciprocates. “Happy Birthday, Steve. This one’s for the future.”

 

(Later, when the sugar has settled and the sun is setting outside the window next to the booth they’re still sitting in Steve asks what keeps Tony coming back. Tony tells him, “because I like you and because even the strongest man needs help sometimes” so easily and sincerely that Steve is suddenly thankful he ordered the spicy sauce with his sandwich so he can pretend the way he starts sniffling and his eyes tearing up is from that. Tony kindly doesn’t comment on it and just steals one of his fresh fries again, still refusing to ever order his own.)

 

—-

 

In between trips to the gym and trips to Shawarma Palace, Steve walks around the city and takes the subway when he gets tired of walking, relearning a place once his home and now still achingly familiar despite all that’s changed. Sometimes he takes the tablet Tony got him and showed him how to sketch on, and other times, when he’s feeling particularly lonely and seconds from throwing himself a literal pity party, he brings his actual sketchbook. It’s like Tony’s got a little tracker hooked to him that tells him when Steve has opted for traditional, because he always calls by the time Steve has walked through Central Park twice, babbling about some recent innovation an intern in Los Angeles has come up with. For someone Steve had been told from multiple sources was known for tossing aside one night stands and avoidance issues, he’s amazing at keeping in contact. Of course, he knows Tony well enough by now to know there’s very little truth left to that reputation anyway, and that there probably wasn’t much to begin with.

They talk until Tony has a meeting or Steve is ready to go back home, with a sketchbook much fuller than before. Tony promises him trips to museums around New York City and general introductions to the world of modern art and Steve tells him his schedule is clear.

 

(Later Tony takes him to the MoMa and Steve doubts these promises when he tries showing Steve Picasso pieces that have existed for longer than Steve has. It’s the thought that counts and Steve has a good time anyway.)

 

On those days Steve usually listens to the playlist Tony curated for him, “with the help of Pepper and Rhodey because they had to prevent me from including Black Sabbath and AC/DC’s entire discographies.” Steve loves The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Aretha Franklin, Queen, Elton John, and while he’s not a huge fan of Tony’s favorites, he does appreciate “Iron Man” by Black Sabbath and “Back in Black” by AC/DC.

 

—-

 

Tony takes to sending him postcards whenever he misses him at Shawarma Palace due to a business meeting somewhere. He only ever goes when it’s something directly involved with R&D, or when Pepper asks, but it’s enough that Steve’s amassed a little collection of postcards that are taped up to a wall in his living room. Some are blank and some have little notes that read like Yelp! reviews of the cities Tony stays in. Most are given five stars, because Tony is surprisingly not at all picky for a billionaire so long as there’s good food, but Berlin only got three and a half because Tony “doesn’t care how good the beer supposedly is, there’s no reason for it to smell that strong every time I walk around in the city.” When they’re not blank they’re always signed off with a succinct “you better not be working those knuckles too hard in my absence, Tony.”

 

(Steve had once, after Tony noticed his red knuckles, confided in Tony about his many late night trips — and some early morning — to a local gym in Brooklyn where the owner let him in after hours to beat the bags so long as he promised to replace any he broke. Tony had told him to get a healthier coping strategy, texted him the contact info of the therapist Rhodey had recommended him, and kindly changed the subject.)

 

When Tony finally manages to get him to move into the tower, Steve brings the postcards in a box with his other pictures he got back from the Smithsonian and the few he’s taken recently. He buys thin, minimalistic frames for all of them, hanging them in a simple grid style that follows states and countries from west to east on one of the walls in his sleeping quarters. When Tony sees it he teases Steve about being a “pack rat”, but Steve can see the smile he tries hiding.

 

—-

 

A few times Tony shows up with a flash drive, tells Steve he has to watch at least one of the movies on it by their next lunch meetup, and then changes the subject before Steve can get a word in.

 

Each time Steve looks there are at least 50 movies on the flash drive. He usually watches at least two, sometimes three, between lunches. They’re an entertaining, depressing, and sometimes horrifying way for Steve to catch up on all the changes to the pop culture he’s missed.

 

Some of the more notable movies include:

 

  * _The Godfather_ : enjoyable, not overly violent, and with some very quotable lines that Steve is sure to overuse whenever he can.
  * _The Dark Knight_ : really, the entire Nolan Batman trilogy was included, but Steve finds this one the best. It hits a little close to home with the whole superhero business, but Steve finds himself thankful that he lives in New York City and not Gotham City.
  * _Forrest Gump_ : this one is odd, and Steve isn’t sure how he feels about it. It’s apparently a classic movie though, and the main character is quite sympathetic.
  * _Saving Private Ryan_ : Steve appreciates this one at face value, but he had to turn it off at the half-hour mark.
  * _Saw_ and _Saw II_ : these were especially horrible, though Steve appreciates that he know understands “wanna play a game?” references. He suspects Tony put these in just to mess with him though.
  * _The Fox and the Hound_ : if Steve cried during this one, well no one has to know.
  * _Toy Story 1_ , _2_ , and _3_ : see above commentary. He maybe projects a little onto the Buzz Lightyear toy, too.
  * _Star Wars_ : some of Steve’s favorites on the flash drives, and ones that he definitely rewatches with Tony at the tower at 2 am.
  * _Scarface_ : another mob-type movie that’s more violent than The Godfather, but with a story Steve thinks he likes just a little bit more.
  * _Inception_ : another of Steve’s favorites, though he and Tony argue over the ending the following week.
  * A few horror movies including _Psycho_ , _The Shining_ , and _The Exorcist_ are also included, but Steve avoids those, praying Tony never brings them up.



 

All the movies lead to some interesting discussions, but most memorable is their debate over which Disney princess they think is the best. (Tony loves Ariel and Steve loves Belle, though he finds the literal beast romance plot slightly uncomfortable. They both agree Aurora and Mulan are great.)

 

—-

 

The first time Steve hugs Tony is when he brings a Pluto Platter and a pie cake stamped with the name of the Frisbie pie company. He listens to Tony tell him about the history of the frisbee, how the guy behind the Pluto Platter also served in World War II, as a pilot, and how the toy got renamed after students at Yale started throwing around Frisbie pie pans for fun. Tony tells him how he thinks Steve would find the frisbee especially fun because of his shield, and Steve tells him he’s right, thanks him for both gifts, and hugs him. It feels like such an intimate and personal gift, that Steve can’t resist. He’s not even one to initiate hugs, usually, but a disc reminiscent of his shield hand-delivered from Tony is something that just requires it.

 

Tony seems stunned momentarily, before he hugs back, wrapping his arms around Steve’s back outside the entrance to Shawarma Palace. Steve feels warm, truly happy at that moment in a way he’s still struggling to feel a lot of the time in the future. He doesn’t even think about the probably hundreds of cellphones taking their picture at the moment. He asks Tony to play frisbee with him some time, and Tony laughs, telling him he will, but only in the tower where no one can see besides them and JARVIS, and that he wants Steve to let him try throwing the shield. Steve tells him it’s a date.

 

—-

 

Sometime between the tenth and what’s sure to be an infinite number, long after Steve stops keeping count and over halfway past the first kiss, when they’d both leaned in for a goodbye hug and Steve had accidentally-on-purpose turned his face towards Tony’s and Tony had accidentally-on-purpose met him there, Steve finds himself sitting in the back booth in Shawarma Palace chewing aimlessly on the end of his straw waiting for Tony and ruminating on what got him here.

 

It’s more than a little strange that a near world-ending battle against an alien army got him his best and only real relationship with the world’s richest and (one of the) smartest man, but when has Steves life ever been anything more than a series of unexpected unfortunate and fortunate events?

 

Right now they’re coming up on the first year anniversary of the Battle of New York (it’s in the history textbooks already, according to the local school that asked Steve to create embarrassing PSA videos for them) and StarkCores are powering nearly every home in New York City and within a ten mile radius outside it. Soon it’ll be in every house in America if Tony has his way— and when doesn’t he?

 

Steve can feel it in the energy throughout the city. A bone-deep awareness of what this date on New York’s long history means not only for the state but for the world. The Chitauri’s attack literally shook the foundation of what people knew to be real, or even possible. Steve had wanted to participate in the remembrance activities for it, and although Tony is stressed over various business things going on at the same time, Steve knows Tony is going to be there standing proudly next to him when the Avengers give their speech outside of city hall.

 

“How’s my favorite living legend?” Tony asks when he slides into the booth, immediately reaching for Steve’s hands to rub his thumb of Steve’s knuckles in a way that never fails to make him shiver. Steve grins in lieu of answering, sure his eyes are the physical manifestation of “heart eyes” right now, and covers Tony’s hand with his own, leaning over the table to press a soft kiss to Tony’s lips.

 

Whenever anyone asks, Steve says his favorite food is shawarma.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just some extra fun fact notes:  
> -All the stuff about the Rubik's Cube is true, besides Tony having one (but he definitely would've, come on). It really was shown at the International Toy Fair in New York, too.  
> -MoonPies really were WWII comfort snacks. I didn't know that at all when I chose them (I chose them because they came about in 1917), but doing further research I found out and thought "how fitting!" Zebra Cakes came about in 1960.  
> -The history of the frisbee is strangely interesting to me and I suggest everyone look it up whenever you're bored. Everything I wrote is true, and I do think Steve would absolutely love finding out that there's a miniature and more kid-friendly version of his shield.  
> -The movies I listed are entirely self-indulgent. Tony and Steve would love Disney.  
> -The "How's my favorite living legend?" line is a shameless shoutout to the absolute Cap fanboy that is 616 Tony, who said that in greeting. Every universe is a Loving Steve universe.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
